His voice was so hard and unnatural that, with a helpless look at
him, she turned away; and then he quickly laid his hand on the door-
knob. He felt as if he were absolutely running away from her. But
in an instant she was close to him again, and murmuring in a tone
none the less penetrating for being low, "Morris, you are going to
leave me."
"Yes, for a little while."
"For how long?"
"Till you are reasonable again."
"I shall never be reasonable in that way!" And she tried to keep him
longer; it was almost a struggle. "Think of what I have done!" she
broke out. "Morris, I have given up everything!"
"You shall have everything back!"
"You wouldn't say that if you didn't mean something. What is it?--
what has happened?--what have I done?--what has changed you?"
"I will write to you--that is better," Morris stammered.
"Ah, you won't come back!" she cried, bursting into tears.
"Dear Catherine," he said, "don't believe that I promise you that you
shall see me again!" And he managed to get away and to close the
door behind him.
CHAPTER XXX
It was almost her last outbreak of passive grief; at least, she never
indulged in another that the world knew anything about. But this one
was long and terrible; she flung herself on the sofa and gave herself
up to her misery. She hardly knew what had happened; ostensibly she
had only had a difference with her lover, as other girls had had
before, and the thing was not only not a rupture, but she was under
no obligation to regard it even as a menace.
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